My coming into this world wasn’t life-shattering, possibly not even an event.
For one, he was pissed I was a girl. He wanted a boy, a stupid cliche, I know, but so incredibly true.
And then, his accompanying her to the hospital hadn’t appealed to him in the slightest.
It wasn’t something he would do––he even told that to my mother.What he’d do and did do was his secretary, and also my aunt Flavia––my mother’s sister.
Two years older than Bianca, my aunt was less worldly than her sister.In other words, she didn’t sleep around, and my father liked that about her.
Have I mentioned that my mother was eighteen at the time?
Yeah.
She was.
A poor rich girl, she’d had everything handed to her, except the power to control a man.
Silly, silly woman.
She thought that by having a kid, she’d make my father pay attention to her and take her seriously.
That never worked, but my mother had never given up trying.I’ve inherited that trait from her, and man, does it serve me well or what?
A quiet laugh rolls off my lips as I stare out the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the patio, and move my eyes over the green-lit pool adorned with floating candles and pink petals, the dark sea and bright lights of Syracuse moving in the distance.
Sprawled out on my bed that’s fit for a princess, lying on my stomach with my chin propped on my folded arms, I take it all in.
Flavia is not coming tonight––I don’t think she is.
She’s having problems with her husband.
Nona and Alexandra have handled the RSVPs, so they know who’s coming and who’s using an excuse not to attend.
It’s an honor to be invited to a Gallo gathering, so they’d better have a good explanation for saying no to us.
In my case, I’m only interested in one person––him––but his whereabouts are more guarded than a secret of the state in times of war.
My mind wanders back to what happened the day I was born in New York.
Knowing my mother, I can say with certainty that she had planned to make my father jealous.
Her gynecologist was young and good-looking, and he happened to be married, but that has never stopped my mother from targeting someone.
She hoped her flirting with another man would put a dent in my father’s confidence.
No matter how cunning her plans were, most things didn’t work on my father.
He was rich and powerful, and broke into a woman’s heart for no other reason than to trash her most precious possessions.
Joseph O’Connor and Bianca Gallo were a match made in hell, and nothing stopped them from ruining everything they touched––sometimes literally––in their lives.
See now why I couldn’t be a saint like Rory?
Living with my father was hazardous at best and insane at worst. And living with my mother was dangerous at best and sheer lunacy at worst.
Nothing stopped them from forcing their abject world onto me and making me who I am today.
So she had her gynecologist ready to assist her in giving birth in a private hospital. She was fancy like that.
